Thanks for Beliveing
by MacyCalder
Summary: I saw the head cannon and instantly feel in love with the idea. #1109 When Sherlock was 14, he spent two entire days in a library read books on psychology in attempt to figure out what was wrong with him. (Thank you to bbcsherlockheadcanon./ for the inspiration) I hope you enjoy it! –MMC
1. Day One

**Day One**

Adjusting my name badge, I took a seat at the checkout desk and logged onto the computer. This would be my second week volunteering here and I've loved it. I knew this library inside and out so naturally when the sign up board for the summer holiday came about, my name was the first on the list. I would have been here all summer either way.

Clicking away at the keys the bell jingles at the front door letting the fist browser in.

"Good morning," I said gently, looking up.

No response. He was tall, thin, and rather mysterious boy with thick black curls that covered his head. I wouldn't have ever known he had walked in truthfully, despite his rushed long strides, he was utterly silent. My eyes followed him to the non-fiction section, standing in front of 100-199.

The mystery man turned and I instantly recognized him. Sherlock Holmes. I shared some honors classes in school with him, he's truly brilliant. Knew the answers before the teacher would even say it. He is a rather silent fellow but studious, never the less. I suppose you could say that I've had a bit of a small crush on him but nothing that I've made too noticeable.

It is a shame though. Other students enjoy taunting him, mercilessly. (Jealousy I assume.) But he never showed signs of pain, emotionally that is. The Football team never hesitates to take him out once in a while…

But why would he be in the psychology section at 9:00 on a Friday morning? I shrugged it off and went back to work, slowly making it through the day. Not too many people came through, just a few university students, a couple of small children, and a browser or two. But Sherlock remained flipping through countless books, sitting at a table close to the shelves, furiously reading. And he stayed there, occasionally getting up to retrieve another stack of reading material.

4:00 came around and I left another volunteer in charge so I could get some dinner. I meet with two of my friends at a local restaurant not too far from the library and talked about our day while we waited for our food to come out.

They talked about going to the mall, lip gloss, and other things that I really didn't care for, until it was my turn to talk of the day's activities. I sort of blushed before answering,

"I was at the library today-"

"Ooh! Clearly someone special walked in! I know all about the signs of romance. Read it in-"

"Kate! Let Nessa speak! Continue." Kirstin says turning to me.

"Well…Sherlock Holmes walked in." I said softly.

Kate rolled her eyes, Kirstin smiled.

"Ugh…What do you see in that freak?" Kate asks, annoyed.

"He's not a freak! He's just smart, that's all…and quiet, and-"

"Just like you? Yeah we get it-"

"Will you shut up?!" she says glaring at Kate. "What about him Ness?"

"Well…that's just it. He's been there all day reading books about psychology and the human mind. Didn't even leave for lunch, heck, he hasn't gotten up for anything except to get more books!"

They both look at each other confused. "That is strange…I mean why would he-"

"Believe me, I haven't the slightest," I told Kate.

The conversation ended there and our food came out. I finished a bit quickly to go back to the library, picking up a cookie as a snack for later. (I'll be there until closing at 10:00) Walking back, I still couldn't figure out why he was there all today. What could he possibly be looking for?

I open the double doors and return to the desk, setting down my things. Trying to focus, I looked at the computer screen but my eyes still wondered to the nonfiction section. Behind stacks of thick books, he still sat there. He looked almost frantic, searching through each and every page. Pain set on his face and for the first time in my life, I saw him break. A tear or two ran down his face and his hands began to shake. It physically pained me to see him so lonely, almost as if I too could feel the hurt in his eyes. Something made me grab for my lunch bag and take a napkin out along with a book on human emotion and the cookie on the desk.

Slowly and carefully, I walked towards him. He looked up, startled for just a moment, then back to his normal expressionless stare. I set the book next to him, "I-I thought it might help a bit…you have after all ransacked this section..." I trail off staring at him. A stream of a tear that had been wiped away ran down his cheek. "Anyways," I said snapping out of my daze. "I just thought…well I know you haven't eaten…" I set the cookie on the napkin and then quickly made it back to the checkout desk, embarrassed. I could feel him watching me carefully until I sat down, only making my cheeks grow warmer.

Closing time came and I just finished putting away the last couple of books. Turning to the non-fiction section, I found all the books put away and Sherlock staring into space. Occasionally moving his hands, shaking his head, and by his facial expression, deeply in thought. He let out a deep, disappointing sigh putting his head on the table. Feeling me watching him, he looked up at me. Embarrassed I looked away once again and heard the jingling of the bells at the front of the library. Like that he was gone.

Cautiously, I walked over to where he had been the whole day. A few crumbs were all that was left on the napkin and every book was properly in its place on the shelf behind the wooden table. And with that, I left, still completely lost on what he had been doing in the non-fiction section.


	2. Day Two

**Day Two **

Mother dropped me off at the front of library and I grabbed the keys out of pocket. Putting them in the hole, I find that the door is unlocked.

Pushing open the doors, I quickly go through to check and see if anyone came in last night, though I'm sure that I locked them all-

"Oh my…" I whispered.

Through the glass windows, I could see notebooks filled with spidery letters and numbers, pencil shavings, fountain pens, and books on the table set around a sleeping Sherlock.

The bells stirred him awake and he makes direct eye contact with me. Wide eyed, I stood there frozen. There was no doubt in my mind that he'd been here all night. He stared at me deeply for 5 long seconds then he stands, turns to the shelf, and gets yet another book.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I return to the desk to start up the computer. And he went, once again, the whole day just like before. Flipping cover to cover furiously and scribbling more notes in journals, until, about noon.

"Damn!" he shouts sweeping everything onto the floor with a loud crash. The library goes silent, all eyes on him.

I shot up from my spot and walked towards him. "Um…S-Sherlock, can I-"

"Why are you doing this?!" he exclaims, glaring at me.

"I-I just want to help." I say softly sitting down across from him.

His expression softens, for just a second, before returning to the ice cold stare. "No one can help me," he pauses, still keeping his eyes locked on mine. "Not even myself…whatever is wrong with me…" he looks at the floor.

There was a long pause before I say gently, "There's nothing wrong with you, Sherlock."

A deep chuckle comes from his mouth, but he stops as soon as he sees the seriousness on my face. Silence set between us as he studies me closely for a minute.

Then, finally, "That is why I'm here Nessa." he says with a soft voice, as if he was trying to hold back any unsteadiness in his words.

"Just because you're smart doesn't mean you're...you're… "I stammer.

"A freak?" he spits out. "Outcast? Sociopath?! Take your pick. Getting a perfect score on a chemistry exam earns you a beating in the school yard. Experiments on the kitchen table gets you locked in your room and lectured by Mycroft. And forgetting what the God forsaken solar system is gets you teased for the rest of the semester. So if you will forgive me for saying the obvious fact that there is something not normal with me, I will continue my search! And I won't rest until I figure out exactly what it is!" he ruffles his hair then opens another book.

"You know." I say after a moment's pause. "You're right."

"Thanks, real self confidence boost." he scoffs.

"You're not normal. You're extraordinary."

His eyes stop for a second, face relaxes, and then he shakes it off. "Yeah…like I didn't know that." he adds rolling his eyes.

"Listen, I know it hurts…and I know it sucks-"

He slams the book shut. "You don't know a bloody thing about-"

"Can you hold off on a sarcastic comment for 5 seconds?!" I shout.

He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Only you can be that smart Sherlock." I say looking right at him, throwing embarrassment out the door. "In class, I've seen you give the answers before the teacher knew them. Balance chemical equations like you do them in your sleep. (Which I have no doubt that you do) And then there's that crazy, 'I can tell your life story from the stain on your shirt' thing that you do-"

"Childs play." he murmurs.

"Yeah, to a brilliant mind like yours! Heck, if it were me I wouldn't have come up with anything! That's what makes you different, Sherlock. Not the taunting, scolding, or beatings. Your brain-"

"But that's just it!" he exclaims. "I'm just so bloody smart! I can't ever give myself a rest because my head keeps going and going. Every day I have to do something, a puzzle, riddle, word game, school work, anything or I'll just pass out! And you know what? I hate it! I hate just being the freak!" in his fit of anger a single tear streams down his face.

"Sherlock," I take his hand, He flinches but doesn't resist. "That's where heart comes in."

"Well, I've been informed that I don't have one." he says staring at the floor.

"Friendship." I say, ignoring that comment. "Friendship is one of the most important things in life, Sherlock." I sigh. "One day, you will be so alone, and that brain of yours won't be able to figure it out. And one day…" I paused taking a breath. "One day you will need friends to help you out of the hole. It will come when you least expect it…it does to everyone…but trust me, you will fall deeper into the dark if you've got no one to help you. Quickly and painfully. That, Sherlock, is where you need heart. Without it…you will fall."

He stares at me critically and then lets go of my hand. "Th…Thank you…Nessa."

I look back at him. "You don't need to-"

"Yes, I do. You know that." he gets up from his seat. "Only you were smart enough to tell me." he adds with a small smile.

And with that, he left.

I sat there for a long time after the door jingled staring at the empty seat and then finally, I myself let a smile escape on my face. For it was that moment there, surrounded by books, crumbled notes, and a bare table in front of me that I realized, great things were to come from him.


	3. Epilouge

**Epilogue **

I opened the front door to my flat to retrieve my daily paper. My husband sets my English breakfast on my normal spot at the table.

"What's in the papers love?" he asks after taking a sip from his black coffee.

"I don't know yet, I-" I stopped in midsentence. Across the front page of the Sun newspaper read: SHERLOCK'S A FAKE: THE SHOCKING TRUTH "He invented all the crimes" (Close Friend Richard Brook Tells All) - Exclusive From Kitty _Riley_

I dropped the newspaper on the table and sat in my chair in utter disbelief. My thoughts go back to the helpless boy in the library…

"This Riley girl certainly has quite the story. And whoever this Richard Brooks is can probably retire with all of this information…sweetheart, are you ok?"

I shake it off. "Yes…I-I'm fine."

Suddenly, a there's a knock at the door. "I'll get it, I need fresh air anyhow…read the article and tell me what it says. I'd like to hear what I says."

I open the door to find a tall man, who appeared to be homeless, in tattered clothes, old shoes, and a hot covering his wild dark hair.

"Delivery for a Nessa O'Callaghan." his deep voice tells me.

Something about his face…those eyes…looked vaguely familiar. "This is she, thank you." I say taking the unaddressed envelope from him.

On a thin piece of paper in long, spidery letters, what I read nearly knocked the wind out of me.

That day came.

The hole has been filled.

Thanks for believing in me.

-SH

It hit me, all at once, but when I looked up to confirm, my old friend, was gone. Without a sound. Rain began to fall as I went back inside. "Who was at the door?"

I read the note one last time and smiled softly.

"Someone…extrodinary."


End file.
